My Turn
by ShaduofTexitar
Summary: Seto wakes up ill one day, and all the maids and servants are out for the weekend. So, what is Mokuba to do? Take care of his brother of course. But he's never done it before and now has to fly solo without anyone but his sick brother. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Shadu: Okay, so this started out as a one-shot, but then I realized it's gonna be a little long for a one-shot. It will be a shorter story though.

Seto lay in bed as the Saturday sun crept into the sky and shined down on him. He groaned; he didn't want to see the dreaded light just yet, even though it only poked through the curtains but a small bit. Just that small bit notified him that he had to get up and make breakfast. He was so tired, though. All he wanted to do was sleep in, just one time. Just once he'd like a day off, which he never seemed to get. He considered taking today off. He thought about sleeping all day, or maybe taking Mokuba to a movie. Something, anything, that didn't involve much work. It was Saturday, after all, and most had today off. Well, Seto concluded that, even though he didn't know exactly what he was going to do all today, he would sleep in. So, he closed his eyes even tighter and rolled onto his side and slipped back into dreams.

Mokuba woke not too long after Seto had wakened first. He wanted to see his cartoons for the morning, and smell whatever Seto was cooking. He loved it best when the weekend came and all the maids were gone. It was just him and Seto. Many may not believe it, but Seto was actually a very good cook. He could make almost anything. Mokuba loved Seto's cooking the best. Mokuba was disappointed when he got downstairs and didn't smell any cooking.

Mokuba looked around the bottom floor for Seto, but he was nowhere to be found. Mokuba then went upstairs and checked all of Seto's offices, thinking that Seto had started on some work and had forgotten about breakfast, which he had done on occasion. Seto, however, was in none of those places. The only other place that Seto would be was in the bedroom. But that would mean that Seto hadn't gotten up yet, and that wasn't like Seto. Mokuba doubted whether Seto was in the bedroom or not, but knew he had to check.

Mokuba poked his head in the door timidly. There was definitely a lump under the covers of the bed, which meant that his brother was still lying in bed. But why? If he was asleep, why? Seto never slept any later than seven thirty, and here it was nearly eight thirty and Seto wasn't up. Something was wrong.

"Seto?" Mokuba called, inching over to the bed. "Seto?"

"What?" Seto groaned, not turning over towards Mokuba.

"Are you okay?" Mokuba asked, crawling onto Seto's bed.

Seto just slowly let out a bunch of air in a steady stream as a response. Mokuba crawled over Seto and put his small hand on Seto's forehead after brushing away Seto's brown hair. Seto's forehead was warm, much too warm to be normal. Mokuba's mind raced. Was Seto really sick? Mokuba could never remember a time, ever, that Seto had been seriously sick. He had never been sick enough to keep him in bed. And yet here he was, sick as a dog. All the maids and servants were gone. It was just Seto and Mokuba. Mokuba had never taken care of a sick person before. But Seto had taken care of him before. So, Mokuba thought. What had Seto done when he was running a fever?

Mokuba sprang off the bed and raced for the bathroom. He pulled out a small washcloth. Racing to the kitchen, he pulled out a medium-sized bowl. Filling it halfway with cold water, Mokuba then went back to Seto's room, walking carefully so he wouldn't spill a drop. He set the bowl on the nightstand and then raced out of the room back to the bathroom as he remembered another thing Seto usually did.

Standing up on the counter, Mokuba looked into the medicine cabinet. There were all kinds of things in here. There was cough medicine, pain killers, antiseptic, Band-Aids, cotton balls, rubber gloves, gauze, allergy meds. Mokuba hadn't ever seen half of this stuff. He didn't know that the medicine cabinet held so much. But it didn't have what he was looking for. He jumped off the counter after closing the cabinet door and looked through the drawers. In the third drawer he found it. Pulling it out with triumph, Mokuba raised the thermometer in the air. Shutting the drawer, Mokuba shuffled back to Seto's room.

Crawling back on the bed, Mokuba scrambled over Seto's body, receiving a groan from Seto. Mokuba plopped himself by Seto and plucked out the thermometer from his pocket. Taking it out of its case, he looked at it carefully. He quickly figured out how to use it, not that hard really. However, seeing as how he had never used it before, he had to be sure. He attempted to stick it in Seto's mouth, but Seto closed it tightly.

"Seto, please let me take you temperature," Mokuba pleaded.

"Why?" Seto asked, his voice hoarse and weary.

"Because you always make me let you," Mokuba stated.

Seto opened his eyes for the first time that Mokuba knew of this morning. Seto's usually bright blue eyes were dull and tired. Mokuba hadn't noticed it before, but there were dark circles around Seto's eyes. His face had paled out a little, but his cheeks were a slight rosy color. And Mokuba sat there as Seto's dull eyes watched, studied him. Then, with a sigh, Seto closed his eyes again.

"Fine, if it means you'll leave me alone," Seto grumbled.

Mokuba smiled. He could almost always get what he wanted from Seto. Taking the thermometer again, he poked Seto's lip with it until Seto opened his mouth just enough to allow the tip passage. Mokuba pressed the button on the top and waited. When a high-pitched beep sounded off, he pulled out the thermometer and looked at the reading.

"Seto," Mokuba looked at his brother.

"What?" Seto grunted.

"Is 104 degrees bad?" Mokuba asked.

"It can be," Seto answered. "Why?"

"That's what the thermometer says," Mokuba stated.

"Just great," was faintly cursed under Seto's breath, and barely heard by Mokuba.

Mokuba crawled over Seto again and grabbed the rag. Mokuba dipped it in the cool water and rung it out. Mokuba jumped back onto the bed and pressed the damp cloth onto Seto's forehead. Seto willingly rolled over onto his back and allowed the coolness to be pressed fully on his forehead and the wetness that seeped from the cloth creep down the length of his face.

"Mokuba, would you please take the comforter off?" Seto requested.

Mokuba nodded and peeled back the top layer of the bed. Seto peeled off the shirt he was wearing and tossed it aside. Seto pulled the remaining sheet and blanket up to his chin and just laid there. Mokuba looked up at his brother. Seto's sides heaved with great effort. Mokuba was greatly concerned, but decided not to make a big deal of it.

Shadu: Please review. I'm desperate for them right now.


	2. Chapter 2

Shadu: I think that an answer-to-the-reviews section is required at the current point in time seeing as how there are many questions and such. However, due to new rules and blah, blah, blah, I will only answer a few of the more critical ones. I would like to say that I now realize I made a mistake in Seto's temperature in the first chapter and it will be corrected. Another thing, while it is true that chills can get at a person with a fever, you still don't want to have heavy blankets on them. Light clothing and a light blanket will do.

BlackCharmgirl: Actually, he's got a flu-like virus, but it's not really anything specific. I guess you could say it's like a mutilated version of the flu.

Kashleen: Thanks, and about the Bible thing. Jesus did say "Love one another as I have loved you," but in a brotherly way. I can guarantee you, Jesus was not gay. Even if you don't have sex, homosexuality is defined by two people of the same gender loving one another, sex or no sex, kiss or no kiss. Romans 1:27, look it up.

Moon-chan: Well, let me put it too you this way. I do not condemn the people of the world who do such acts because they are, after all, human. It is the act itself, the sin, that I condemn. Just as I do not condemn gay people, I do not condemn people who write yaoi stories. It is the act that I hate. I know gay people, who doesn't? And I like them for their personalities, but that's where it stops. I do not like their choice of lifestyle. And if I'm so narrowed minded, sorry. But this is something I will not waver on. Leviticus 18:22, look it up.

Shadu: Thank you SO much for all the reviews, to everyone. Sorry all of them weren't answered. This story takes the record for the most reviews in one chapter for me. Please continue with this.

Seto relaxed his grip on the sides of the toilet and leaned back as the violent motions that had cleared his stomach passed. He wiped his mouth clean with a washcloth and dropped back to the floor, panting there for a second. Then, standing shakily to his feet, Seto staggered back to his bed gripping his stomach, and flopped back onto the mattress of his bed. Mokuba inched timidly back to the bedside.

"I'm sorry Seto, I didn't know that would happen," Mokuba apologized.

"It's okay kiddo," Seto answered weakly. "I thought I could hold down soup too."

_Though I don't think it was the soup…_Seto thought, remembering the meal that Mokuba had fixed before the soup.

Mokuba took the cloth, soaked and rung it again, and reapplied it to Seto's forehead. Seto opened his eyes slowly and looked at Mokuba. Mokuba looked back, worry covering his face. Mokuba was afraid that Seto had something serious.

"Should I call a doctor Seto?" Mokuba asked.

"No," Seto shook his head. "No one needs to know I'm sick except for us."

Mokuba sighed internally. Seto was letting his arrogance override common sense, just like he normally did. But, in a different light, he could see why Seto didn't want to have anyone else know. Someone somewhere would slip, letting another person know. That person would take the story of the ill CEO to the press, where they would make a big deal of it. The news crew would be at the mansion in a matter of minutes. That's what always happened. Mokuba understood why Seto didn't want that, but couldn't understand why he wouldn't allow him to call the private family doctor. Seto trusted him, didn't he? And then, Mokuba remembered Seto complaining, once, about the doctor's secretary. She had a gift of gab and if she knew anything worth any interest to the general public, she would immediately tell the press. That had happened a couple of months ago when Dr. Peterson ragged on Seto about his low body weight. Mrs. Ral couldn't get the story of the underweight CEO to the daily newspaper fast enough. Seto had to put up with the press for weeks and has never lived it down.

"But Seto," Mokuba started.

"No, no one but us will know," Seto growled. "Promise me that Mokuba," he looked at his brother, and when he didn't answer he repeated, "Promise me."

"I promise," Mokuba nodded sadly.

Seto's expression softened and he reached out a hand and ruffled Mokuba's hair.

"I'll be okay, if that's what you're thinking," Seto said suddenly.

Mokuba looked up at him in surprise. Seto sat up, using a great deal of effort. He beckoned for Mokuba to come sit by him. He carefully pulled himself onto the bed beside Seto.

"Mokuba, you want to know something about your old brother?" Seto asked.

Mokuba nodded.

"I've been sicker before," Seto stated, dropping his voice to a whisper as though it were a huge secret.

"Really? When?" Mokuba asked, his eyes widening.

"Before you were even born," Seto answered.

"Were you really, really sick?" Mokuba wondered, his interest growing.

"I was in the hospital," Seto nodded.

"Did you almost die?" Mokuba asked, his eyes growing even wider.

"I think so, I can't remember for sure," Seto answered. "But my point is, I pulled through then, and I'll pull through now, understand? Compared to that, this is nothing."

Mokuba nodded. He knew Seto would pull through, he always seemed to; nevertheless, he couldn't help but worry about his big brother. Mokuba latched onto Seto, wrapping his arms around Seto's mid section. He could feel Seto's warm skin. Seto was still very hot, though he had put back on a light shirt. Even through the shirt, Mokuba could feel the fever in Seto's body, and he hated that Seto was feeling bad. He wished that he could just take it all away. He wished that he could make his brother well again just like that. He hoped that his brother would feel well again very soon.

Seto stiffened in surprise when Mokuba hugged him. It had been a long time since he had felt something like that. It had been quite sometime since he had been shown any affection at all. And sitting here now, with Mokuba wrapped around him, he realized just how much he had missed it. Seto gently put an arm around Mokuba.

Mokuba looked up at his brother, and then softly sighed, pulling out. He didn't want to end his brother's affection but he knew he had things to do. Seto understood and laid back down. Mokuba put the washcloth back on Seto's forehead and fished the thermometer out of the drawer in the nightstand. Mokuba hopped back on the bed beside Seto. Seto opened his mouth and allowed Mokuba to insert the thermometer under his tongue. After a beep, Mokuba pulled it back out.

"It still says 104," Mokuba told Seto, troubled.

"Let me see," Seto requested, pulling the thermometer out of Mokuba's hand. "Mokuba, why in the world are you using this one?" Seto asked after studying it.

"What's the matter?" Mokuba wondered.

"This one's broken," Seto answered with a groan, handing it back to Mokuba. "It always reads two degrees above what it really is. I've been trying to fix it," Mokuba knew he wasn't trying to fix the thermometer, just experiment on it. "The good one is in the medicine cabinet behind the Band-Aids."

Mokuba nodded and went off to find the other thermometer. Again, he bounced onto the counter in the bathroom to see into the medicine cabinet. He could barely see the Band-Aids, much less behind them, but he finally found it after fishing around for a while and went back to Seto. This time, when he took Seto's temperature, it was indeed lower.

"This one says 102.3," Mokuba stated looking at his brother.

Seto still wasn't very happy with it, but nodded showing Mokuba that it was indeed more accurate. Seto closed his eyes with a groan. Mokuba looked at his brother in worry again. Seto seemed to be getting worse.

"Seto?" Mokuba ventured.

"What?" Seto croaked.

"Are you sure you don't want me to call a doctor?" Mokuba asked.

"Yes," Seto replied quickly.

"What about Tina?" Mokuba wondered, referring to the maid who also doubled as the in-house nurse.

"No," Seto growled.

"Please Seto," Mokuba pleaded.

"No," Seto snapped, signaling the end of the conversation.

Mokuba felt the sting of water forming in his eyes as he hung his head and mumbled his agreement. Mokuba left the room and ran to his room, throwing himself on his bed and spilling tears on his pillow.

Tears of rage and fear were both shed that night. Tears of rage towards his brother's stubbornness, and tears of fear of losing his brother. Tears flowed, and flowed freely. No matter how Mokuba tried, he couldn't stop them. They rushed out of his eyes and onto his pillow with uncontrolled fury.

Mokuba wanted so much just for his brother to get out of bed and work, just like he always did. He wished that his brother would shove him out of his office, just like Seto always did. Mokuba never thought he'd see the day when he longed for his brother to push him off and go to work. Mokuba had never seen Seto so sick before, and it scared him. He had always seen his brother as a symbol of strength, an unwavering pillar. How could this happen to the one person who mattered above all others?

"Please, don't leave me Seto," he whispered into his pillow. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

_**Worthless, worthless, worthless.**_

_These words rang through his head, driving them into his soul._

_**Worthless, worthless, worthless.**_

_He lay on the bed, bleeding. It was so cold out. Why was his window open? Oh yeah, that's right. He didn't have what it took to get up and close it._

_He lay tiredly, life seeping out of him ever so slowly. Maybe he should just give up. Was it really worth it? Was life really worth torture?_

_**Worthless, worthless, worthless.**_

_Those words seemed to be ringing true. He was worthless. All of this was meaningless._

_He was sick, he knew it. He had been for weeks, months it seemed. But no one cared. No one noticed._

_**Worthless, worthless, worthless.**_

_Sweat stuck to his forehead. Had Mokuba noticed? Does he understand? Probably not, he'd been avoiding Mokuba. Could he even do anything? No, definitely not._

_**Worthless, worthless, worthless.**_

_A figure loomed in the door way. His weary eyes looked up. His step father looked down at him, a sadistic grin on his oily face._

"_You're worthless, Seto, worthless," he taunted._

_Seto tried to speak but found he was unable to form words._

"_Worthless, worthless," his step father continued, his shadowy figure slowly changing, "worthless, worthless, worthless…" he turned into the one thing that Seto feared more than his step father; the one thing that brought him to tears. "Worthless!"_

Seto shot up in bed, slender hands on his upper arms.Sweat trickled down his face, his face was a bright red and his breathing was fast and rapid.

"Seto, it's okay, you were only dreaming," Mokuba told his brother, urging him to lie back down. "You're alright now. He won't hurt you."

Seto laid back down, shaking. He was still very disturbed over his dream.

Mokuba took a damp towel and laid it on his brother's hot forehead. Seto's fever had risen again, and it was beginning to affect his dreams. Mokuba had heard him call out in his sleep that night and again a few minutes ago. It was late morning now. Late Sunday morning.

"Don't worry Seto, Tina and the others will be back this evening," Mokuba coached.

Seto moaned. Mokuba crawled up into Seto's bed and laid down beside him, wrapping his small arms around Seto. Snuggling up close, Mokuba rested his head on Seto's chest. Tears filled his eyes again, and threatened to fall but didn't.

Mokuba had such a confusion about his mind. Awful thoughts swam through his head. Uneasiness was very prevalent in Mokuba's mind. He was so desperate, and yet so helpless. What was he to do?

Mokuba, despite all his thoughts and his restless mind, was eventually lulled to sleep by the rhythmic beat of his brother's heart and the steady up and down of Seto's breathing, settling in for a while in the protection of his brother's arm.

Two weeks later…

"Seto!" Mokuba called as he ran half way up the stairs. "Seto! Tina says it's time for you to check in!"

"This can wait!" Seto called back, and Mokuba heard the distinct sound of his brother's fingers on the keyboard.

"Tina's going to be very mad if she doesn't get to examine you for your weekly check up again," Mokuba replied.

"She doesn't need to," Seto protested.

"Seto…" Mokuba drawled warningly.

"Alright, I'm coming," Seto sighed, knowing the temporary consequences.

Mokuba smiled. It was good to have things back to normal again, and to have Seto well and himself.

Shadu: Fin! Please review like you did on the first chapter. puppy dog eyes


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